moving too fast (and yet not fast enough)
by anonymous.mystery95
Summary: When affected by yet another metahuman, Barry and Caitlin will be forced to face the feelings that they have been denying themselves for over a year. But the situation, while bringing them closer than ever, may also be responsible for tearing them apart. Snowbarry.
1. Part I

_Takes place a year after the crossover; if Ronnie is alive Caitlin doesn't know it._

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Flash._

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.

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Of all the metahumans they had faced so far, she was one of the more milder ones. It wasn't that she was intent on world domination or anything of the sort, on the contrary, she was content sitting in the sidelines and doing her work.

Making people fall in love.

Much _unlike _her parents.

(Someone had yet to explain the difference of love and lust to the poor girl.)

But before they could lock her away or minimise the effect of her touch she was determined to impart one last gift. She gave Barry a hug. The horror that permeated the looks of Cisco and Caitlin were enough to remind him just how dangerous that would be.

However, by that stage, it was too late. He had been infected.

They just didn't fully realise it.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you don't have any lingering affects?" Barry brushed her off, eyes rolling as Caitlin harangued him about the latest metahuman. He would have commented on his increased heart rate when in her proximity, with her hands liberally roaming his bare chest, he would have groaned out his urge to pull her against him, to have her be a whimpering, moaning, hot mess underneath him but he had long ago accepted these as normal.<p>

He had long ago accepted this as a desire like no other.

(It wasn't the effects of a lust-inducing touch but a lust-affected mind.

And the fact he was in love with her.)

"Don't worry Caitlin, I won't ravage you without permission." He winked at her cheekily, his smile an ever-present fixture on his face with her around.

"I- what?" He took in the rosy hues of her cheeks, enjoying his ability to fluster the normally stoic doctor. "I was thinking of your dinner with Iris and Joe. We wouldn't want you to act upon your feelings for Eddie's fiancée."

"Oh, yeah. That. I forgot all about it."

And he truly did.

She looked at him worried, mentally reciting the symptoms to herself, checking whether temporary memory loss was one of them. He chuckled as he saw her do so, watching an unsettled look come across her face when _no, it wasn't a symptom_.

"I'm fine. I'm - Caitlin." She had opened her mouth to argue, but his hand on her shoulder had startled her into silence. Looking into his eyes, so soft and light, filled with optimism and hope, she felt herself relax. "I'm okay Caitlin." And she couldn't respond, not with him looking at her like that - like she could mean something more than just a friend and work colleague. She moved forward, to do what she wasn't quite sure, but it felt right, being near him. Being closer.

"Guys, where are you?" Breaking apart whatever moment they were having, Cisco's voice echoed down the halls. Pulling away from each other, Barry wandered back to a seat while Caitlin rushed to get her analysis complete before the morning. "Oh, there you both are." He didn't notice the disgruntled look on Barry's face, nor the flushed cheeks of Caitlin. Getting his stuff, he turned to them, picking up on the weird vibes they were giving off.

"So... Imma be heading off now, if any of you guys need a ride, now's the time to speak." Caitlin wordlessly shook her head, too invested in preparing her analysis and _not _focussing on Barry to answer properly.

"I think I'll stay down here with Caitlin for a while."

Nodding at Barry, he walked out of the labs, only stopping to remind Caitlin that Doctor Wells was out doing a _thing _and that she would need to lock up when the analysis was completed. As soon as Cisco left she turned on her heels and hissed at the man struck by lightning.

"You're staying with _me_? You have a dinner to get to, _with Iris_!" It hurt him to think that she believed he was still hung up on Iris, that she couldn't see how much he truly valued and loved her - Doctor Caitlin Snow. "You can't hide from her forever Barry."

"I'm not avoiding her Cait, and I can leave for later... right now, though, I'm going to stay down here, with you." And oh, if her heart didn't skip a beat when the nickname slipped through his lips, like it belonged there.

"Okay, well, don't forget to put your shirt back on then. You'll catch a cold down here."

(If his teasing smile wasn't so distracting she would have realised he never did so.

But it was and so she didn't. And thus, their fate was sealed.)

* * *

><p>"Shouldn't you be heading off to Detective West's home now?" Her voice pulled him from his musings on her, on the way her hair curled perfectly, on her pouty lips that looked so damn kissable, on that shadow of pain that seemed to follow her around.<p>

"Nah, I told them that I was feeling a little off tonight and couldn't make it." He truly was feeling different, the sensory overload that gradually building had finally hit him. Everything had been amplified, colours seemed brighter, scents seemed more pronounced. His mouth felt dry at the thought of determining whether she tasted as delicious as she smelled, and _oh_, did she smell heavenly. He was already feeling the heady effects of it and he was on the other side of the lab. The thought of being closer, of being utterly immersed in all that is Caitlin, was almost as agonising as not acting upon it.

"What?!" The distress should not have been as attractive as it was to him. Watching her jump up to her feet out of concern for him made him want to sweep her in his arms and kiss her fears away, to distract her from her worries using _any _means possible. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"Relax Caitlin, I just didn't feel like spending time with the happy couple." She didn't look so convinced at the excuse, but his carefree smile seemed to soothe over any lingering worries. "I'm fine." Reluctantly conceding defeat in this argument she returned to her bench, analysing the chemical composition of the modified DNA of their metahuman and he had taken to watching her.

She could feel his piercing gaze focussed unwaveringly upon her and she felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny.

"What is it?" She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, something he noticed was a nervous habit of hers. He look in her lack of eye contact, her awkward shuffling. The tension of the room was nearing unbearable and really, why was he stopping himself from showing her how much he loved her?

"Have I ever told you that you look absolutely breathtaking?"

"What are you on about Barry?" She was in front of him immediately, concern permeating her expression. "You lied earlier didn't you? You are feeling off." Placing her hands on him again, she checked him like any personal physician would, noting any abnormalities that may have resulted. "Elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, slightly erratic breathing." She was murmuring to herself, trying to recall what they were symptoms of. And then she realised. "You were affected! It must have had a delayed affect, like the anger induced by Roy Bivolo. I need to call Cisco or Doctor Wells. Probably both. They need to know that you were affected by the metahuman."

"No!" The growl was almost indistinguishable as a word, the thought of her going to a man, _any _man that was not him for _any _reason, repulsive.

"Barry, they'll want to be here." He seemed to acquiesce to her request, but the moment she turned her back she was pressed against his chest, so very close to his _bare _chest, his heat radiating from him and lighting her on fire. She internally cursed her body's natural reaction to being so close to the individual who occupied _many _of her dreams and much of her heart. His grip on her was strong, and she learnt quickly that struggling against him was not the wisest course to take, his hands squeezing her waist as a warning to stop twisting. One hand rose up, running his fingers through her silky tresses, enjoying it's smoothness against his skin, pushing it all to one side.

"Barry, we need to _call Cisco_. You've been infected."

"Or we could just stay here, the both of us. Alone." He dropped his head against her neck, glad that she wasn't wearing anything high collared, that he had unimpeded access to her. Even knowing that he was affected by the metahuman's touch, aware that he was so close, and so very affectionate, she was still surprised when she felt the pressure of his moist lips against the side of her neck. Her heart leapt at the contact, and her fear and doubts were quickly met with the emotions she never thought she could feel after Ronnie, emotions that only Barry could bring out. Hope, love, _lust_. He continued his assault and slowly she could feel the worry seep out of her. His hands were running up and down her sides, teasing her, torturing her, its warmth melting the icy barriers around her heart, barriers that were now puddles by the wayside.

"Barry." It was a whimper, a plea - she wasn't quite so cognizant on whether she wanted him to continue or stop, but it escaped her lips all the same, echoing in the room.

"Dammit Caitlin." He all but growled it into her neck before lavishing the attention of his tongue, teeth and lips upon the skin beneath him. "It sounds so much more sexier in real life." His hands, so large and warm, slipped under the her untucked blouse, the temptation of feeling her soft, supple skin under his own too irresistible to deny. "Do you know how many times I would dream of you yelling my name, screaming it until your voice is hoarse so that the world can hear and know that you're mine. Of how many times I would wake up on the edge from just thinking about us, _together_." The vibrations rumbled through his chest and through her being, her knees almost buckling at his intensity, at how much much she wanted this - how much she wanted _him _to want this.

"Oh-" She wasn't sure whether he pulled or she pushed, but they were so incredibly close, so deliciously close, every ridge and plane of his body was against the curves of her own and it was short circuiting her mind. He hissed against her shoulder at the movement, nipping at her skin, the sweet torture messing with his control.

"God Caitlin, please tell me you feel it too, this thing between us. " His teeth tugged at her earlobe, revelling in the noises that she was making, hating that she felt the need to quieten them, that she felt the urge to make them stop. "Please tell me I'm not imagining it all." Her head rolled backwards against his shoulder, her eye lids to heavy to keep up. Everything required too much concentration and when the only thing she could focus upon is him and -_oh_.

His calloused fingers moved higher, brushing against her sensitive skin. The shudder that enveloped her body was uncontrollable, she was helpless against his relentless onslaught upon her senses.

"Barry..." It was a strangled moan, his name drawn out as she enjoyed having it roll over her tongue. He cursed against her neck, his body tense against her.

"Caitlin, you need to stop saying my name like that." She didn't realise he had pulled her straps down until she felt him exploring more of her skin. "You're killing me here."

But it seemed to be the only word her mouth seemed capable of forming, escaping unbidden from her lips once more as he continued to toy with her body and mind. He stilled as she did so and she could feel his smirk on her as she groaned at the displeasure of it. He spun her around, surprising her yet again.

"I did warn you." The glint in his eyes had her backing away slowly, jumping slightly when the felt the edge of her bench bump against the back of her thighs. He had watched her amused, using his speed to be by her immediately. And just as immediately he had whipped off the blouse that had teased him all night, leaving her in a simple white cotton bra.

She flinched, feeling exposed and vulnerable as his eyes raked her body. She moved to cover herself, doubts from her adolescence resurfacing, but the intense aura that surrounded him, an intensity directed towards her, stilled her movements.

His gaze roamed over her, pulling her in towards him and devouring her whole. She felt so inadequate; he lived with Iris, sexy, confident Iris West - he loved Iris - she couldn't dream to hold a candle to her. But the way he was looking at her, with such love and devotion, she couldn't help but waver in her beliefs.

"You're so beautiful." She could hear awe and amazement in his voice, his eyes unblinking, drinking her in. And in that moment she actually believed him. She _felt _beautiful. "Do you know how many times I have dreamt of this Doctor Snow?" The deep timbre of his voice was down right erotic, feeding her own desires, feeding _her _want for him. "The fantasies I've had of us, down here? I'd be sitting over there and you would walk up to me," her eyes had fluttered closed again by this stage, she was leaning against the bench behind her for strength. "You'd ask to do tests on me, on just how well I can use my speed." He didn't need to say anymore, her imagination already bombard her soul with images of _just _how she would have tested his speed and endurance.

"Barry please -" She hated the fact that she had been reduced to monosyllabic words, that his name was the only thing that would come to mind. But lord above, did she love the reactions it brought from him.

"Just tell me what you want and I'll do it." The words were muffled through the hazy fog of lust in her mind, the scent of their arousal and a muskiness that was utterly Barry assaulting her senses and holding her captive. "I'll do anything for you Caitlin, anything." His voice was strained, his hunger for her unquenchable, painful. Staying away from her, resisting it all, hurt. He needed her, but above all, he needed her to need him back.

"No-nothing." She stuttered the word, instantly mourning the loss of his warmth as he staggered backwards, lost and confused with a touch of heartbreak. Whether a noise escaped her lips or the cry was solely echoing in her mind she wasn't sure.

But it wasn't real - his feelings weren't true and heaven help her, she couldn't continue this charade and risk losing possibly the greatest friendship she had experienced throughout her life due to her lack of self-restraint.

"What?"

"None of this is true Barry - you're in love with Iris, this is the effects of the metahuman talking." It was a hard truth to swallow, but she would have to accept it. "Your only feelings for me are platonic and I can't take advantage of this in your system." She averted her eyes, tears stinging, heart breaking.

"No." She felt a shift in the atmosphere, her eyes drawn to the man in front of her once more. She noticed the determined glint in his eye, his set posture, the clenching of his jaw. She was unable to move and he stalked towards her, one hand tilting her head forward, eyes locking, breath catching, the other sliding around her waist, pulling her as close as physically possible. "This _is _me talking, okay? I love you and I have for quite a while now. And there is _nothing _platonic about the way I feel for you." His pupil's were dilated, his iris' a thin band of emerald surrounding the dark pool, but she still looked into them searchingly, hoping - _needing _- to find any sign that these were not the words of a man drunk on lust and pheromones. She didn't have time to find the answers she sought however because for the first time that night he kissed her lips.

The moment he made contact, she knew she was gone.

She felt as though she was drowning, helpless to fight everything that was Barry Allen.

(She had truly lost that battle the moment he asked why he never saw her smiling.)

His grip upon her waist tightened, pulling her flush against him, revelling in the way she seemed so responsive to every move. The skin contact between them left them both reeling with the sensation, it was an aphrodisiac like no other. It left them burning, on fire. The tension is the room was sizzling, She was unsure of everything but how he tasted, how he felt underneath her fingertips. She didn't know when she stopped standing and was instead sitting on the bench behind her, papers be damned. Lips moulding against his own, immersed in utter bliss, she wondered if the rest of her life could be as amazing as this.

(If she wasn't so high on the lips and touch and feel of Barry Allen she would have dismissed that thought instantly - she wasn't destined for happiness. But she was and so she let herself enjoy this moment of heaven.)

She had completely abandoned any pretense by this stage, her hands running through his dark locks, purring at the effect it was having on the hero holding her, legs were wrapped around his waist, her heels pushing him closer. He growled against her lips, one hand dropping to her lap, following the rise of her skirt up her thighs, teasing her with his fingers.

They were so engrossed in their activities, in each other, that none of them heard the lift descending or it's doors opening.

"Woah! I so totally called this by the way." Cisco's voice was jarring against the silence of the room, where the only previous noise was of their expressions of pleasure and the sounds of their hearts beating in sync.

Barry didn't flinch at the interruption, nipping and soothing his way down her jawline as she jerked in surprise. The night's events that did not include the feeling of his touch, lips or skin on her own came flooding back, along with her sense. Looking at Cisco and Doctor Wells, both with a rather amused expression on their faces she flushed and yelled at them before anything else mortifying could happen.

"Quick, hit him with the tranquiliser!"

And they did before Barry could process the words spilling out of Caitlin's mouth. The effects were strong and fast, the last thing he was able to do before falling unconscious was send a look of utter betrayal towards her, shattering the broken fragments of her heart further.

* * *

><p>"Are we sure it is going to keep him knocked out?" Slipping on Barry's STAR Labs sweater, she felt both more relaxed and on edge, especially alone in the presence of Doctor Wells.<p>

"It should. When we received your phone call I programmed the labs to slowly decrease the temperature of the room. The effect that the colder air is having on his body will allow the tranquiliser to leave his body at a slower rate." Doctor Wells wheeled himself around the lab, unnerving her more than what she thought was possible.

"So, how long do I have to create an anti-serum?"

"Ten minutes, give or take. Cisco's cuffing him up now in case luck is not on our side as it so rarely is."

"Well, It's all pheromones and biological chemical modifications, nothing I can't handle." The smile on her face felt as forced as the tone in her voice and - _why did she feel the need to smile, pretend or otherwise_? She turned her back towards him, unable to face her boss. "Cisco should be the one to administer the formula." She cleared her throat, attempting to inject a level of detachment in her voice. Because that is what she should have been, not secretly harbouring a love for the man who was currently handcuffed and unconscious in the labs next door. _(Oh lord, how would she face him again? How could she look him in the eye after what had just taken place?)._ "He should be safe given that I was the one Barry attached to. If I was off or my dosage wasn't high enough-" She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down. "Well, It would be better for everyone involved if it was Cisco." He nodded, his gaze telling her he knew quite a lot more than what she was comfortable with.

"Of course. Oh and Caitlin -" Her breath caught, fear at what would follow flooding her system. "It was quite ingenious to enable your phone to take audio commands like that, good job." And with that, Doctor Wells rolled away, leaving her to finish the anti-serum in relative silence, the only noise heard by the geneticist being the sound of her own heart breaking.

(She was able to determine the correct chemicals and ratio required in four minutes, it was mixed up in an additional five. She left the vial on her table, knocked on the door to alert Cisco to her successful formula and calmly walked out of STAR Labs.

The fact that she didn't come to work the next day due to unforseen circumstances had nothing to do with the events of that night.

Absolutely none.)


	2. Part II

If Cisco and Doctor Wells thought they were being discreet in their attempts to distract him, to keep him so busy and utterly exhausted that he could not imagine _thinking_ about Caitlin and her lack of presence they were sorely mistaken.

Caitlin was all he _could _think of.

He rushed through every task asked of him, his mind only a few miles away with a certain brunette woman. They couldn't deny that his speed had improved, that his concentration seemed both on point and so distant. Because he wanted to be with Caitlin, he _needed _to. Last night- _lord, last night_- had been unbelievable, amazing, confusing, utter perfection and if these tasks were in the way of their reunion then they would simply need to get done. And so he did them until finally, with the resigned look on Doctor Wells mixed with the hopeful optimism on Cisco, Barry knew that they had no other tasks, they had nothing to test, to experiment on. He was finally free to go home.

To go to Caitlin.

* * *

><p>When he sped into her apartment, he was not expecting the sight that he was welcomed to. Because there she was, beautiful, sweet Caitlin, lying in a STAR Labs jumper and sweats on her couch, asleep. In <em>his <em>STAR Labs jumper, asleep. His heart stuttered at the sight of her there in his clothing and thoughts of her in his clothing, in a large array of his clothing, sleeping, waiting for him to come home, ran wild in his mind.

He crouched in front of her, taking in the sight. He gently ran his fingers across her skin, not resisting the urge to run his fingers through her unruly locks, brushing them away from her face. And it was this that roused the sleeping beauty in front of him, her eyes opening a fraction taking in the sight before her.

"Barry?" Her voice was rough with sleep, the image in front of a blurry image, but one she had seen enough in her dreams to know instinctively.

"Yeah Cait, it's me." He could hear the smile in his voice, falling more in love with her in that moment.

"Oh." Her eyes had closed again, the soft murmur giving way to a soft smile at the sound of his voice, with the knowledge that he was here, with her, where he should always be.

"You wanna get up now?" His voice was so soft, so hesitant to break whatever was allowing him this precious moment.

"Just five more minutes, I'm too comfortable here." The plea won him over immediately, he would have served the world on a silver platter if she had asked for it, but this - five minutes of them, alone - he would have no problem doing. It all felt so domestic, and he couldn't help but envision a future five, ten years down the track, with the same scene occurring, hopefully with a ring on a certain finger, maybe with the slightest hint of a bump on her stomach.

She shuffled, unable to find the perfect position she was in before. Huffing in sleepy irritation, she grabbed his hand and, placing it between her head and the arm of the couch, she sighed happily before falling asleep. But not before dropping a kiss on the inside of his wrist. He watched her in wonder, his heart threatening to burst from within his chest at her actions, his world stilling, pausing at that very moment, revolving solely around her.

"I love you Cait." It was a ghost of a whisper, a confession only uttered with the knowledge that she wouldn't recall it, wouldn't run from it. He didn't even intend to admit it aloud again, but the words refused to be held captive within him for any longer.

"L've you too." But then she said it back. And screw five minutes, he would have spent a lifetime in this situation with her, with that declaration spoken so freely between the two. So he remained leaning beside her, memorising every detail on the face that graced his dreams, not wanting the moment to end. But it did eventually, his arm having passed the stage of merely going numb and was now shooting pain down his arm.

"Cait, come on, it's time to get up." He slowly arose from his position, his hand still nestled between her and the couch. Tilting her face just so, he was able to relieve the pressure on his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to break the connection between them. He moved his fingers slightly, his other hand mirroring the first, stroking, caressing, the smooth skin beneath it. "Come on, sleepyhead."

She awoke slowly, his voice drawing her from her slumber, reality crashing down on her in fragments. Barry could pinpoint the moment she gained full comprehension of where she was and what she was now facing. He tried to hide the hurt he felt as she scurried out of his embrace, curling into herself on the other side of the couch, watching him with frightened, wary and - _guilty eyes_?

(And he wondered whatever could she be feeling guilt for? For it was him that ravaged her last night. It was him that ignored her rejection. It was him that needed to be on his hands and knees, pleading for her forgiveness, for her love.)

"What are you doing here Barry?" She was defensive, he could tell, and he was unsure how to venture forward.

"I came to speak to you."

"And so you _broke in_?" It was a quiet screech, and he quickly figured out that reminding her that she _did _give him a key and so, _technically_, under the eyes of the law, there was no break in committed would not be the wisest course of action.

"Well, you didn't come into STAR Labs today." She could hear the concern behind his words but no, she was avoiding him, she couldn't face him, not now, and here he was coming to her. She attacked him last night, took advantage of his state so _why_? Why was he here? Why was he torturing her like that, looking at her with those eyes of his, not a hint of disgust or judgement present.

"Is that supposed to be some sort of revelation to me?" Her words were like acid, burning him. He had never been on this side of the doctor, but now he was he longed to never return. "I _am _entitled to time off, you realise that, don't you?"

"I know, I - I just thought that it may have been because of last night and well, I thought we should talk about it now." Her eyes narrowed at the mention of last night.

"What do you remember of it?"

"I-" _the feel of her lips, her skin, the strangled moan that escaped her lips as he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear. _He cleared his throat and looked down abashed at how distracted the memories got him to be. "Everything."

"Well, if you remember everything there is nothing to discuss, is there?" She was shutting him out, he realised. She - Caitlin Snow - the woman who opened up to him so easily, and he her. They were kindred spirits, her and him, and now, seeing her this way, he felt bereft of her in his soul.

"Caitlin, of course there is. That's the reason why we should." He reached out to her, ignoring the pang of disappointment as she recoiled from his hand.

"Well, my life isn't focussed upon catering to your every whim and wish. If you came here for an apology for engaging in such acts than here it is: I'm sorry Barry. It was only done to keep you occupied until I could get some help. Now please, my door's that way." And sure enough, her outstretched finger was pointing at her door and her eyes indicated that was exactly where she wanted him to be. Sighing in defeat he nodded, and turned to the door. But as he twisted the doorknob, he paused. And refusing to face her, to see her looking at him like _that _again, he spoke.

(Because he heard the slight tremor in her voice, saw the minute trembling of her finger, and he had one thing he had given up on moments before. Hope.)

"Did you ever wonder why her touch never worked on her parents?" The question stunned her momentarily, the question so left field she couldn't understand why he was bringing this up now, not when she was breaking her heart so efficiently - a clean break now decidedly more easier to handle than have him do it with such ease. He was utterly in love with Iris, hearing him say that he didn't mean the words he spoke would have done nothing other than crush her and really, she wouldn't be able to come to work and see him everyday if that were to happen.

"Well, I would assume that given they helped form her genetic composition, it made them impervious to the effects of her touch."

"And you never wondered why I was never attracted to the others, that it was you, _only you_. You never questioned why no one was attracted to someone too young or too old?" He had turned around by then, taking in the expression on the doctor's face, wondering if he had pushed it too fast too quickly.

(But it had been a year, he'd been in love with her for a year - he'd missed his opportunity with Iris because he had waited too long, he wouldn't make the same mistake with Caitlin, his heart couldn't take that.)

She looked at him unblinking, the new terrain they were rapidly approaching unfamiliar and confusing.

"I have this theory, you see, that it didn't induce lust, but lowered the inhibitions _in relation _to lust, or love. And that's why her parents were immune to her touch - they had grown to distant to have any feeling towards the other. They knew of the other's affairs and didn't care. There was no love, no lust, nothing. I think _that's _why they were immune to her." His eyes were burning her, trying to tell her _something_. She was on the cusp of comprehension, the sweet taste of knowledge so very close, but the leap of faith required was something she couldn't do. "It may have lowered them so much so that the lust or whatever romantic emotional response was exaggerated in certain cases, but it must exist initially for there to be any effect. And I think _that's_ why I felt it toward you and none of the others." He heard her intake of breath at the confession, he felt her searching gaze sear into his soul as she looked for the truth to his statements once more."Well, that's what I wanted to say." And he turned around, reaching for the door again, cursing his stupid idea that maybe she did feel something, that it wasn't just a distraction until the firepower had arrived.

"Barry."

And there it was, his name flowing from her lips. So full of a reluctant hope that it stopped him in his tracks.

"What are you saying Barry?" He could hear the fear trembling her voice, the thought of loving someone almost as scary as rejection. He turned around and found her so much closer than before, the sheen in her eyes now visible. He could see the war going on inside of her - to shut him out or let him in, and he hoped that she would let him in, _oh god_ he hoped that would be the case.

"I'm saying that when I told you I dream of you, I wasn't lying." He took a determined step forward, watching her. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, the emotions of the past day finally releasing itself. She finally felt comfortable showing these emotions, because Barry was there and he wasn't leaving her. Her comfort, her hero. _Her Barry_. "When I told you I fantasise about you, I wasn't lying." There was in intensity that flashed in his eyes as he continued, refusing to let this be something brushed away as an effect of yet another metahuman. "I do Caitlin. I think of those things, yes. But I also imagine the dates, children running around in the backyard, doing scientific experiments, blowing things up." With every step his voice had dropped in volume, emotion clogging his throat, and here, in front of her it was barely a whisper. His hand reached out, caressing her face and he marvelled at the way she melted into his touch, he stood in awe at her beauty as her face relaxed, as her eyes fluttered closed at the contact. She nuzzled into his hand, seeking his heat and love, needing it to warm the icy cold grip fear had upon her. "Of me calling you Doctor Allen."

"Doctor Allen?" Her voice quivered as she repeated his last words. It wasn't lost to her that his father had been a doctor, a Doctor Allen, and to have him want it to be her, a title that he held in such high esteem, one surrounded by a tragic past - to have him say it with such adoration, as though she was able to wipe away the darkness surrounding it- her heart throbbed at the implication.

"When I told you I love you, I wasn't lying." He smiled weakly, afraid that she would run, afraid that _her _fear would make her run. But she didn't; her eyes flung open, eyes probing for the truth, for _that _to be the truth. She suspected after he arrived that maybe he did have feelings for her - but she didn't believe it to be as strong as love. She never allowed herself to imagine the future he was portraying for her, but now she did, and it was glorious.

"But - but Iris?" He shook his head slowly, the expression on Caitlin's face breaking his heart. Had he been so evidently in love with Iris before that Caitlin couldn't see how helplessly in love he had been with her now?

"I'm telling you now, unaffected by whatever the metahuman was able to induce, that I love you - and not in the platonic way you've imagined. I'm not lying or exaggerating, I _do_ love you. Not Iris, not any longer. This," he brought her shaking hand to his heart, pausing, allowing her to feel the steady beat underneath her palms. "This _belongs _to you, it _beats _for you Caitlin."

And before he finished her name she was in his arms, pressing herself against him, kissing him. He stumbled at her momentum, his mind blank to all except her, the feel of her lips against his own, the way she moved, the passion she kept hidden behind the walls of her heart. And no, it wasn't the lust inducing or inhibition lowering powers that made him doubt that the lightning gave him speed because he felt that he was floating with her in his arms - it was her, all of her. He finally regained some form of sense and kissed her back, smiling under the assault of her lips, hands refamiliarising themselves with the contours of her body, heart and mind yearning for the physical intimacy of the last night, especially following his declaration.

He gripped her tightly, afraid that this would all come crashing down around him, that she would still run, and now that he's tasted her, held her, touched her, he wasn't sure he could survive like that, live seeing her everyday and not cracking.

"I love you too Barry." It was whispered against his skin, the moment too fragile to break. It was a mantra, flowing from her heart and lips, each word punctured with a peppering of kisses across his jawline and down his throat. She could feel his tension slowly seeping from his body with every time she uttered it; she knew he was afraid she would shut him out, that she would do as she did before.

She lingered at his pulse point, enjoying the _thump _underneath her lips, taking comfort in the feeling. Because he was here, he was alive and he was in love with her_._

She pulled away only slightly, eyes locking and breaths so ragged their chests were physically brushing against each other with every attempt to draw oxygen into their lungs.

"You- you love me?" His voice contained such awe, and she realised for the first time that maybe she wasn't the only person that was unsure in their standing with the other. He had been in love with his best friend for almost two decades, to imagine that she could reciprocate seemed so bizarre and unlikely he had almost expected rejection.

"I love you Barry." She smiled at the confirmation, her heart lighter as the words were made audible. They seemed so insignificant, so underwhelming, but it was the best she could do to verbalise her feelings, to express to him just how much he meant to her.

"And you won't try running away from me again?" The fear that she would still run lingered in his mind, and she needed to quell that immediately. Because she could never run from him, not after the past twenty four hours, not now that he was here, pouring out his heart, his dreams for the future - dreams that involved her in no minor capacity - to her. She pulled him close for one more kiss, soft and quick, but still leaving the both of them breathless.

"Never, you're stuck with me now _Barry_." Her voice dropped at his name, her tongue wrapping around the syllables as the sultry tone teased him, a mischievous glint in her eye indicating that she remembered everything from last night to, especially a certain confession about his name coming from her lips. She saw his eyes darken as soon as it left her, the power she felt almost as intoxicating as his hands and lips on her. They had both felt the atmosphere shift, the lighter one replaced by one which conveyed the raw desperation and need for the other.

"Good." His voice was gruff, and it sent a shiver down her spine to know that she was responsible, that it was her that affected him in such a way. "Because I would _really _like my sweater back." And her laughter quickly changed into something else entirely.

* * *

><p>She couldn't recall the stumbling around in her lounge room, of how she ended up pressed against her wall, a very loving, a very <em>real <em>Barry Allen responsible for it all. But she did, and his laughter was muffled against her lips, his smile as he pulled away to breathe lighting up the dark crevices of her broken heart. And she couldn't help but respond in kind; she felt whole and happy once more and it was all due to the man in red, saving her every single day.

And in his arms, she was home.

* * *

><p>And so, this little thing is now finished, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. I do not own the characters or have any rights to the TV show.<p>

Oh! Come say hi to me on tumblr if you have it :)


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